It Hurts Me to Wait
by diddykongfan
Summary: AKA Five Times Emma & Graham Almost Kissed (and One Time They Actually Did). Season One Gremma AU, Graham lives, heavy influence from Reawakened. The subtitle kind of says it all.


**A/N: starts out somewhat halfway canon (with heavy** ** _Reawakened_** **influences, don't say I didn't warn you) before making a sharp turn into an AU where Graham didn't die. 5 + 1 for 5,500 posts; title comes from the song** ** _Why Don't You Kiss Her_** **by Jesse McCartney. Also this is my actual first 5 + 1, hopefully I didn't screw up the concept too terribly.**

1

The first time is a few hours after a hug. The celebration of Henry and Archie's safety at the mines has gone on for quite some time, day bleeding into night even as the town is _still_ gathered at the mines, and they've spent most of those moments side-by-side.

They're left alone momentarily, next to Billy's tow truck, and she turns her head to say something, and-

He's so close, eyes on hers, and if she just leaned in and closed the gap it would be easy.

Except, there would be nothing easy about it. She's in town for Henry and Henry _only_ , and Graham is her boss of, well, _days_ , and he's been so damn sweet and earnest and one night stands are as far she goes but he wouldn't be. He couldn't be. She knows that, feels that. And she won't let herself feel more. Doesn't want to let him or anyone else near her heart, because no one can hurt her unless she lets them.

Still, what she was going to say has flown from her mind and she's frozen, hesitating, the sound of her heart pounding in her ears, and-

"Emma! Graham!" Ruby's voice breaks the spell, and she looks away quickly, "Come on! Granny said free drinks for the hero of the hour!"

2

The second time she'd rather not think about.

It comes after two _actual_ kisses, is supposed to follow as their third. He cups her face and leans in and she feels like she matters to someone, for once, like letting someone in might not be the worst idea in the world, and the moment is so damn _good_ -

And then he falls to the ground, her arms wrapped around him in what feels like a futile attempt to keep him safe and upright, pain etched across his features, and _oh, God, no, she just let him in, she can't lose him already,_ _the very idea is torture_ -

He reaches up to wipe her tears, says he loves her in shaky breath, and she's screaming his name trying to get him to _stay_. She's terrified of him not making it, terrified enough to practically _beg_ , _don't act like you're dying, Graham, please don't do that._

Terrified enough to practically _wish_ , to plead with whatever powers that be in the universe for his life. To hope beyond hope that there's some magic that can save him, even though she doesn't believe in magic at all.

( _Henry says that she's a Savior, and Graham had been convinced earlier that the curse was true as well. She might not believe in such things, but if it is true and she loses him? What kind of Savior would that make her, to lose one of the people that matter most to her, to be helpless, unable to save him?_ )

3

The third time is during his recovery.

He's lucky to be alive, she knows, and she has a lot to do at the station with him out of commission and her acting Sheriff in his medical absence, but she's at his side as much as she possibly can, Henry often sneaking away to spend the time with them both.

( _She feels weird and clingy about being that way, not like herself at all. But she'd almost lost him forever; wasting another moment after the miracle of his survival just feels… Wrong. And all Mary Margaret does is smile and send baked goods with her when she leaves the loft, and Granny always has an extra, heart-healthy meal waiting when she goes to pick up her own orders. So, apparently everyone else has just accepted that she's sticking to him, or something._ )

Graham and Henry talk in quiet whispers when she leaves the room, and though she wonders what they're so secretive about, she doesn't question, because… It's nice to see them together, to see that bond, and it makes her feel more secure in her willingness to let Graham in.

But he hasn't quite been himself since he nearly died. Which, she figures is understandable, considering the trauma he must have gone through. Still, there are moments when she feels like he's hiding himself from her, trying to pull away.

It's been two weeks when she leans in, intentions clear, and maybe he thinks it's too soon? Or maybe he's changed his mind about her? Because he pulls back, turning his head slightly, not letting their lips meet, though he does embrace her – and she's disappointed, but she lets him hold her, head on his shoulder. It's still something, even if it's not what she was hoping for.

"I'm sorry," she whispers, "I thought…" _He'd said- As he'd lay there on death's door, he'd said-_

"I meant it," he says back, a hand brushing through her hair, "It's true. But I need time to sort some things out, if you're willing to wait."

The last time she waited, it was in Tallahassee for two years for someone who never came back, never even tried to find her. But Graham's not Neal, she knows that, and she also knows it would be useless to try and wall off her heart again now; he's in there too securely to just be rooted out.

( _And for him, waiting doesn't sound so bad_.)

4

The next time is just after Ava and Nicholas are reunited with their father.

He'd resigned as Sheriff not long after his near-death, and she'd fought hard for the position that would by all rights fall to her as his chosen deputy, won an election because that's what it would take to keep the department out of Regina's hands through Sidney.

The orphans are essentially the first thing she has to deal with in her new position, and it dredges up her own issues of abandonment, her memories of being that age and being alone, hits so close to home because they get the happy ending she always wanted, their father saying, _yes, I want you,_ coming back for them.

( _The happy ending she never got, will never get._ )

And at the end of the night, he sits next to her on the steps just outside Mary Margaret's loft, an arm around her shoulder, his warmth and presence a comfort that she doesn't quite know what to make of. She's never really had anyone even _want_ to be there for her. He doesn't just want to be; he _is_ there. By her side and in her heart, he's there.

She considers it, as they stand in front of the apartment door, getting ready to say goodbye for the night, considers both what it means that he's at her side and _how much_ she wants to kiss him in thanks for that gesture, but she doesn't lean in; not this time. Instead, she looks into his eyes and says three words:

"Still not ready?"

And he smiles a bit more than she's seen since that night that everything shifted, that night that everything almost ended before it had really begun, but she waits for him to speak instead of assuming that it means he _is_ ready. Because she'd rather know than get rejected yet again.

"Still willing to wait?" he counters.

And she just nods, because she is. Because he's still proving that he cares in other ways, like being there for her, and that… It makes it easier to trust that waiting is the right choice.

5

The next is Valentine's Day, of all days. Maybe technically the day after, since it's a long night and the two days sort of bleed together, but still Valentine's in her mind.

She'd been looking for Moe French, for stealing from Gold – and the stuff had been recovered easily, but the man himself had proven more elusive, and was probably in danger judging by the way that Gold was talking about finding him first.

She'd asked Graham to help her with the search, because his knack for finding people seemed like a pretty good asset to have, in this particular case, but even with both of them, they'd almost been too late – Gold had gotten to French first, been beating him within an inch of his life, and it wasn't _just_ about some stolen antiques.

 _You sent her away_. There was a person involved in all of that mess, somehow.

"Do you know who he was talking about?" she asks Graham after Gold is locked up, when she's taking a break from the whole thing, leaning up against the station's outside wall with him in the moonlight. "Who it was that got sent away, or whatever?"

"Maybe?" he answers, looking thoughtful, "I'm not quite sure what the connection to Moe would be, but there was a woman, Belle- She cared for Gold. She's the only one I've ever heard of him caring for, as well."

"Do you know what happened to her?" _Sent away_ doesn't exactly sound definite, as ominous as it does come across.

"She was kidnapped, years ago. Gold has believed she's dead for a long time. I don't believe she is, but I don't know where in Storybrooke she could be kept, either."

"If it's been years, and you know she was kidnapped instead of just leaving town of her own free will, the odds aren't exactly in her favor, Graham." She doesn't need to tell him that; he might not be Sheriff anymore, but he was. He knows. Still, she says it anyway – what else is there to say, in this? Some question about what the woman who apparently cared for Gold was like? Doesn't seem to be much of a point, to that. Besides, Graham had made a point of saying that he believes she's alive, which… Grabs her attention, more, makes her almost curious.

"No. But I knew her. The only reason she would have been taken is to be used as leverage over Gold, and killing your leverage over the most powerful man in town is a terrible idea."

"That assumes there was a reason." There isn't, always. They both know that. She doesn't understand why he doesn't seem to be taking that into account, how he can be sure that this Belle person isn't dead, but he does seem confident in that, at least.

"There was a reason. The entire setup was too deliberate for there not to be."

She doesn't know enough about the case to argue that, but it also… Doesn't quite feel like he's telling her everything? He's not _lying_ , she would know that, her internal lie detector would tell her that, but at the same time… There's something he's not saying.

Normally, she might press until she found it. There's no reason that she shouldn't.

But it's been a long day, and she's tired, and she still has some paperwork to finish about the case before she can quite call it a night. So instead she lets it drop, finds his hand with her own, twines their fingers together, seeking out the comfort of his touch.

He's the one that leans in this time, close enough that she can feel the ghost of the last time they actually _did_ kiss, lingering, but the shadow of the third kiss that still hasn't been overwhelms and she's the one to turn away.

"Not here," she says, quietly. Not the station. Not so close to the place where she almost lost him. Not yet.

+1

She had called him, when she found the phone in the mansion on the hill. She might have been hiding from the place's owner, the guy who thought he was the Mad Hatter, Jefferson, but there had been a dial tone on the landline that was in the room she'd ducked into and she had called Graham.

The guy had her, and he had Mary Margaret tied up, and he had a gun, and he was clearly insane. Mary Margaret is technically a fugitive, at the moment, and that is not news that they want spreading.

She thinks she can probably handle Jefferson herself, but it's reassuring to know that backup is coming, someone she trusts who has been on her friend's side this entire investigation.

It's a nice thought to hold on to, that they are _not alone_ , even as Mary Margaret is the one to knock Jefferson out a window. The two of them survey the damage from above, but the man himself is nowhere to be seen, only his hat - the one that he forced her to make for him - on the ground in the wreckage, and Graham pulls up to find them that way, standing in front of a broken window, glass littering the ground.

And Mary Margaret agrees to go back to her cell, and they don't have much time to get her there before the arraignment, but before she and her roommate can leave for the station Graham pulls her in for a kiss that sends her pulse racing, his grip around her waist tight.

Their third kiss, finally. Things had gotten so hectic after Valentine's that there hasn't been time, Kathryn going missing and the twists the investigation has taken since. She's been preoccupied with making sure that Mary Margaret doesn't get railroaded for a crime she didn't commit; the thing they have between them has taken a backseat to her friend and her job.

So, the kiss in this moment? It's a surprise, definitely.

And it's because he could have lost her, she realizes. Just as she could have lost him all those months ago, as she had feared the worst – he had feared for _her_ , knowing that someone had a gun and had her hostage. He had been afraid of losing her, and he needs this, to reassure himself.

"I'm still here," she promises when they part for air, leaning into him as though to prove it. There may have been some doubt, because Jefferson more than probably needed professional help all things considered, but – she's fine. Mary Margaret's fine. It's over, now, a bad memory.

"It's still true," he answers back. And she knows exactly what he's saying, and though a part of her freezes at the thought, it's not as scary as it would have been, once. Not as scary as it would have been just months ago, when she arrived in town.

"I think it might be true for me, too," the admission is easier than she expected it to be. Then again, a part of her has been building up that courage for months, now. "But I've gotta get Mary Margaret back to the station."

"I'll be right behind you."


End file.
